


Breathless

by Calacious



Category: My Two Dads
Genre: Asthma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: It's not Joey's fault. His asthma rarely bothers him anyway. There was no need for him to tell Michael and Nicole about it.





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [csi_sanders1129](https://archiveofourown.org/users/csi_sanders1129/gifts).



> I know that most people probably think that someone with asthma is always on it with their medication, and that this is not a very feasible scenario, but I am writing this because I neglected to take care of my asthma. I didn't think it was that big of a deal because I don't have asthma attacks on a regular basis -- I thought that how I was breathing was the norm; it's not. I wanted to explore this a little further. Hopefully that doesn't make this story off-putting or seem too self-indulgent.
> 
> Thank you csi_sanders1129 for the suggestion for fandom, and for the encouragement while writing.

Joey forgets that he's got asthma. It's intermittent, and most of the time he doesn't even think about it. He doesn't have to use an Albuteral inhaler on a daily basis, he keeps it in his sock drawer (something that he hasn't mentioned to his doctor). He hasn't bothered to tell Michael or Nicole about it because it doesn't really impact his life, and he doesn't need to give them something to worry about.

Things are fine. He's fine. He doesn't even remember that he's really got asthma, that sometimes it's so hard to breathe that it feels like there's something binding his chest until he's coughing up half a lung and wheezing because of a virus that Nicole brought home from school, and his cough is lingering for weeks and Michael all but drags him into the doctor's office, thinking that he's at death's door.

He's not, but the doctor does chastise him, because he's not taking care of himself, and then Michael, Michael won't even talk to him. Gives him the silent treatment all the way home, no matter what Joey says or how much he apologizes or tries to make light of the situation.

"Come on, Michael, I'm fine," Joey says, exasperated and more exhausted than he's been in a long time. Some of it is the virus, but a lot of it is Michael's silence.

Michael says nothing as he opens the door to their studio apartment, simply drops Joey's meds onto the catchall table by the entryway and quietly removes his jacket and shoes. He doesn't even look in Joey's direction, and Joey sighs.

"Look, for the hundredth time, I'm sorry, Michael." Joey throws his hands in the air, and takes as deep a breath as he can, then holds it so that he doesn't cough. Coughing now would not help his situation at all.

"You're sorry." Michael's hand is shaking where it hovers above the catchall table, keys dangling from his fingers.

Michael's not facing Joey, has his back turned to him, shoulders tensed up around his ears. Joey moves closer, wanting to touch, but not sure if he should. "I am," Joey says. "I --"

"You what?" Michael cuts him off, spinning around so quickly that Joey has to back up a step, and almost trips over his feet.

"Thought you'd tell us you had asthma when an ambulance pulled up in front of the building to cart you off to the hospital? Or, were you going to wait until you were dead before you told us?" Michael's eyes are filled with anger and something that Joey doesn't really want to think about because it's something that he'd wanted to avoid putting there in the first place -- worry.

"Michael, I--"

"Don't say you're sorry," Michael says, closing the distance between them, finger jabbing Joey's chest.

"What do you want me to say?" Joey asks, going cross-eyed as he looks at Michael's quivering finger.

Now that their bodies are so close that it's just Michael's finger that's keeping them apart, Joey can feel that it's not just Michael's hands that are trembling. Michael's whole body is practically vibrating with tension, fear, anger.

"I want you to say that you're going to take care of yourself," Michael says, stabbing Joey in the chest with each word. "That you're not going to leave me to raise Nicole on my own. That you're going to stop keeping secrets from me."

Michael pulls his finger back to jab home another point in Joey's chest, and Joey catches it in his hand, pulls Michael close, and rests his forehead against that of the man that he's grown to love. He presses his lips to the tip of Michael's finger, and then enfolds Michael's hand in his own.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I had asthma. I...it's just that it's never been a problem before, or I guess I just didn't ever think about it as that big of a deal, you know?" Joey bites his lip and implores Michael to understand.

"No, I don't know," Michael says, voice quiet, but hard. "I don't know how you could take such a huge gamble with your life. I guess I thought that Nicole, that I, meant more to you than we do."

Closing his eyes, Joey groans and grips Michael by the shoulders as tight as he dares. He opens his eyes, and sends every bit of love he has into his gaze, hoping that Michael will be able to feel it, that it'll somehow be projected from him to Michael, because that's not what this is about at all. He loves Michael, loves Nicole, loves raising Nicole with Michael. The thought of leaving Michael and Nicole for anything other at all makes his blood run cold. It terrifies him more than anything the doctor had said, anything that Michael didn't say in his silence.

"You both mean the world to me," Joey says, chest tight with emotion.

"Then, don't do this to us again," Michael says, moving his hands to cup Joey's face, eyes searching. "I can't do any of this without you. I don't want to."

"You won't have to," Joey says, voice thick.

He closes his eyes, captures Michael's mouth in a kiss that robs him of his breath, and leaves both of them clinging to each other and trembling.

"I promise I'll take care of myself."

"You'd better," Michael says, pulling him into another breath stealing kiss.

  
  



End file.
